


My Fate Unwinds

by ajremix



Series: Like the Sun in My Mouth [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:30:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A god from end to beginning to end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Fate Unwinds

In the end there was void. For a thousand years the world stitched itself together as Grima slept.

~*~*~*~

She knew what had happened the moment the group had returned from trying to save the Risen-invaded village she had warned them would be too dangerous to do. The one they had gone behind her back to do because they were frustrated with losing, frustrated with being pushed further and further back into their own halidome. The wounded were doubled up on horses, blood seeping through hasty bandages, defeat etched into the slope of their shoulders. One horse bore no rider, just three oblong objects wrapped up in Ylissean shrouds that each Shepherd carried in a pouch. She knew without asking that one of them was her husband, simply because it was his horse.

Her throat closed, her teeth clenched and creaked and inside she was screaming so loud her ears were ringing. Chrom couldn't look her in the face, could barely even lift his feet to approach her. "Jesslyn. I'm sorry," he said, one hand clutching at the cloak draped over his chest. At the wound he was given, nearly died from on the night of his elder sister's assassination. The wound that he refused to admit left one arm partially crippled, no matter how many times she or anyone else told him otherwise.

Everyone was waiting for a response, for her to say something, to absolve Chrom of the blame but all she could do was stand there, crying silently as others pulled the bodies from Caramel's back. Her breath hitched in her chest and she almost started screaming out loud.

Chrom ducked his head even more as his voice broke over the words, "I'm so sorry," and he had to retreat to keep from breaking down in the middle of the camp.

Someone was murmuring things she couldn't hear passed the blame that was screaming in her head and gentle arms held her but she couldn't see who it through her uncontrollable weeping because Stahl was no longer there to soothe her, to remind her that she wouldn't be able to see what needed to get done with tears blurring her vision.

Resentment solidified deep in her chest and it felt almost like hate.

~*~*~*~

Then Grima stirred and along his tendrils of power he felt the pull of his blood awakening.

~*~*~*~

They made it into Plegia's altar room as the others distracted Aversa and her so-called Dread Lords in the courtyard. Jesslyn tried not to think of the friends her plan might be killing that very moment, just as she tried not to think of those already lost, owed in no small part to being unable to grieve for her husband. The loss consumed her, from the unbearably empty tent she fell asleep and woke up each day in to the thoughts of that barren stretch of land he'd been buried in without honors or markers to wondering when Morgan would hear the news and what kind of mother she was for not being there for him. The thoughts plagued her, seeping into the cracks between her thoughts, making her heart curdled into something like loathing until a seditious voice was in her head like a dark, malicious stranger. It kept twisting the blame to Chrom, kept tracing her pain to his actions until Jesslyn could barely look him in the eyes and some days couldn't even bear to stand next to him. The voice dragged claws through her mind, peppered her with the knowledge that if Chrom had simply accepted his limits, Stahl would not have died.

If he didn't agonize over Plegia to a degree that matched his father-

If he'd recognized his own recklessness-

If only he'd actually listen to her-

It built like a tension on a drawstring as they stole toward the Fire Emblem, thrumming dangerously as Chrom, all flash and vengeance, slashed through Validar, threads snapping one by one when Jesslyn found herself in Chrom's arms, instinctively taking the attack that had been meant for him.

"It's over," he said, smiling at her as if so many of their friends hadn't died in his war, "we won."

A thought flashed bright through her mind, _You don't deserve it_ , and suddenly Chrom was on the ground, bleeding. Horror washed over her, small, distant, like a tide rolling out to sea. Grima smiled through her eyes and let his dark magic crackle in Jesslyn's fist as he strode back out to the courtyard, ready to kill any of her comrades that had survived.

~*~*~*~

In the end there was death. Everything withered under Grima's shadow as he engulfed the world.

~*~*~*~

In the ruins of what once was Ylisstol's royal palace Grima sat upon a throne of rubble and pondered the news he'd been given. He could feel Naga's power, a faint hum running counterpoint to his own. He knew she was gathering what was left of her strength for a purpose but not for what. So he had called his two generals before him as he decided his course of action.

Grima couldn't help a sense of possessive pride at his vessel's offspring, his potential perhaps even greater than his mother's and mind even more pliable to Grima's influence; how could the fell dragon not take advantage of this, growing a second general from the boy's blood, the two identical in nearly every way. Grima would savor the moment when the children who continued to resist him would finally see the one Grima beset upon them was once their dear friend.

He pushed himself to his feet, the very foundation of the building trembling as two pairs of invisible wings flexed in the stagnant air. "You," he addressed the copy, "continue the push to the west. Take as many troops as you need to defile any place left sacred to Naga and the Voice. You," in a move almost tender were it not for Grima's smile full of teeth and malice, he pushed back Morgan's hood, lifting the boy's face to meet his eyes, "and I shall put an end to your childhood friends."

~*~*~*~

In the end there was time that wound backward, just so it could unwind again.

~*~*~*~

Pain unlike any he'd felt since his awakening radiated through Grima's skull, the magical backlash nearly loosening his grip on his vessel. Before him on the ground sprawled a body- his body, a past version of his vessel half concealed in a field in a time when grass and flowers still grew. He could still feel the connection to this one, a faint buzz like the barely audible rumble of thunder in the distance. The vessel was alive but trying to control her had nearly been fatal for her- and weakened Grima himself. He reached out, trying to seek the vessel's child but that connection had burnt like a flare, cauterizing as it went. Grima cursed. When he'd forced his way into Naga's spell his presence alone had rendered it unstable, sending the children, Grima and his troops into random points in time and space. As loathed as he was to have lost his best general, Grima didn't mourn the loss of Morgan. He'd been convenient and useful but he was ultimately unneeded in Grima's success.

This vessel, however, was.

Somewhere along the horizon, Grima knew, Chrom was on his way. He would find Jesslyn and accept her into his confidence, even if the details of their first meeting had changed. Fate would proceed as it should. Except this time it would be to Grima's specifications. He flexed his hands and could already feel the world clutched within them.

~*~*~*~

In the end there were memories. Gentle smiles and promises of forever so ingrained in the vessel that even Grima couldn't entirely drown them out.

~*~*~*~

Perhaps it was a bit macabre to sit perched upon his own skull but there was still power there that coursed hot through Grima, more so than the sun that bleached his current seat. A sudden breeze fluttered his vessel's hair and great coat, stirred by the pumping wings of Adversa's dark pegasus.

"My Lord," she said, knowing better than to pretend any attempts of allure with the ancient god, "we've received news that Walhart has fallen and Chrom and his army is returning to Ylisse. What are your orders?"

He smiled to himself, all of Plegia laid out before him. "Invite them in, of course. After all, how could we be remiss in keeping the final Fire Emblem jewel when our dear neighbor is trying to protect the world?"

Her lips curved up in something more out of anticipation than mirth. "Shall we perhaps toy with them a little? I imagine their tactician would be most distraught at becoming a widow." Her laughter was malicious, "But then if she didn't want him to be a target, they shouldn't have made such a production of their wedding."

Something twinged within Grima, even more than it usually did when in prolong discussion with either Adversa and Validar. Both seemed so certain of their usefulness that they believed a reward different than that of the other Grimleal, that they would be able to savor Grima's rule in luxury rather than be consumed. It was as if they didn't comprehend who it was they worshiped. "Let him be," Grima said. "With the death of Basilio, fate is unwinding just as it should be." Quicker than before, certainly, but then Grima was stronger than before, sharing the power of this time's Grima as it woke more, day by day. "The life of one obscure man makes no difference."

Adversa frowned but bowed, spurring her mount to pirouette in the air. "Very well, My Lord. I shall do as you command."

~*~*~*~

In the end there was fate. And when time rippled its threads began to unknot.

~*~*~*~

The fell dragon sneered at Chrom, his foolhardy allies and even more foolhardy children. To think they believed they could defeat _him_? A veritable _god_? After he'd already conquered their future?

"How absolutely pitiful," his grin smeared like oil. "So helpless once you've lost your tactician." His power flexed about Jesslyn's essence deep within him. He may not have been able to control her but he could absorb her back into himself. "She was mine before she was even born. This moment was building since I was subdued a thousand years ago. How could you possibly hope to stop me?" His true body roared, the power in his voice alone brought everyone to their knees. "Suffer for me and die!"

Then he felt it.

A pulse. A searing beat in the confines of his body growing stronger and stronger, radiating heat and light like a dying star about to explode. Grima's vessel staggered. The great wings of his true form faltered. "No," the pulse turned to pain and even now Jesslyn was resisting him, "this is impossible!"

His trued form and his vessel roared together, this time in an agonized disbelief as Jesslyn dragged herself from his clutches, as if pulled by a thousand threads of light until she reformed out of Grima's back, weak but whole. No... _No_! How could this be? How could she reject him so utterly? All that she was was Grima! Her blood- the very nature of her soul!

A gentle light engulfed Jesslyn and her allies- Naga's blessing, soothing all that Grima had done to them and he _railed_ , clamoring to control or absorb Jesslyn once again.

How dare she. How _dare_ she! Grima's vessel raised her hands into the air, gathering power to summon Risen into battle. He knew what that fool child was planning: the only one who could kill him was himself. "Try if you wish," he snarled, "but you will die with me!"

~*~*~*~

In the end there was nothing. Then there was warmth and light and Jesslyn awoke to the sound of her name.


End file.
